


g(love)

by zagspect



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: I GUESS I WILL JUST...LIVE UP TO UR WEIRD TRUST..., Other, Porn Without Plot, WHY ARE U VULNERABLE AROUND ME, ancient weapon learning how cool being horny is, can you imagine if that attack were real., i would ascend..., listen. theyre just having a nice time, self harm in action if not in mindset . stay safe, with a lil cameo from that unused attack sgg posted once, zagreus aspect malphon, zagreus' pain kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:15:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27783577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zagspect/pseuds/zagspect
Summary: They love him because he gives them what to destroy. They won't stop destroying just because they love him. That's no secret, though. There are no secrets between them, no surprise attacks, certainly not wrapped around his hands like this.Zagreus spends time with gloves that want to be just like him.
Relationships: Zagreus/Malphon (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 32





	g(love)

**Author's Note:**

> first off general warning for self-harm. there's no depressed or self-hating mindset behind it, the mindset is very much 'zag loves pain and is having a great time', but physically he is hurting himself so. stay safe, leave if you need, i totally get it.
> 
> anyway imagine loving a pair of evil gloves. imagine being a pair of evil gloves.....and *loving*. everyone was like oh you are solely for destruction but now someone says also youre sexy would you like to discover intimacy??? youre a pair of evil gloves but i believe in you. thats it thats the story. this is embarassing but im posting it anyway for some reason lolol

It's just the two of them, weapon and fighter. Or, a fighter twice, an original and a dedicated imitation.

Zagreus is lying on his back on that ledge over Tartarus, eyes half closed. Malphon clings around his hands. Animals cover their stomachs from fear of attack, and those who have the gift of armor cover themselves with it for that same reason. But Zagreus just lies there, exposed, resting. Even the training dummy is far behind in the yard, to his dismay. Zagreus wanted privacy. He doesn't know how dangerous that is.

They love him because he gives them what to destroy. They won't stop destroying just because they love him. That's no secret, though. There are no secrets between them, no surprise attacks, certainly not wrapped around his hands like this. They're bored and want to hurt him and let him know this, and he echoes it back, he wants them to hurt him, he's alright with being hurt. There's something else in the echo too, excitement they've seen from him in quick flares during his runs- in fights one-on-one with the Fury but only the blue one. Under curses and when he whispers _hit me_ to a gate and it does so on his way in. Something _he_ wants. They don't know what it is fully. They want to know. Zagreus' breathing gets heavy with all this _want_ bouncing between them. He was resting but now he isn't, he's excited, hot with it, wreathlight spilling out behind him, legs shifting against each other.

"Can...one of you," he starts asking, low and gentle, but already it's wrong. There is no _one of you_ to Malphon, the way there is not one of a wielder's hands separate from the other. Somewhere, very far away, there is a saying about how mere distance does not separate, or something similar, and certainly the distance between two arms does not.

"Sorry." 

Zagreus doesn't elaborate, doesn't have to with them. They know what he means and that he means it. He was wrong. He knows it. He should pay. They make him feel it in his arms, nudge him with the need to atone. He shakes his head, to their frustration. Talks it out detailed, like to a separate person, because this is not a feeling they can grasp. It's almost embarrassing.

"It can't be like that, or you get in hot water. Punishing yourself, I mean. There's better mindsets to do this with, look, it's going to be nice, alright? We're going to enjoy it, but- gentle with one hand, blood in the other. Can you do that? I promise you there will be blood." and they feel him shiver with imagining it.

Blood first. They want it badly and he does too, so he lets them dig into him, claws across his chest, just enough to bleed. Yes yes yes they want more and deeper-guts deep, flexing with the thought of pulling it all out of him, in long bloody strings like an enemy, until he sinks into the pool- but he doesn't let, straightens his fingers and soaks the tips in what blood leaks out instead. Acceptable. He wants more too but somewhere else, brushing the back of their other hand over his waist, his thigh, between his legs, that's it that's what he wants that's where he wants it. Gentle with one hand, he said, so they let him drag them feather-light over so long as he keeps the other end of the bargain, the blood. They are letting him walk all over them, does he know that? They're being _so_ good to him. Only because of how much he lets all the arms kill, no one else does that, so much, so consistently, every day a fight forever, covered in the sticky ashes of the dead and the gold blood of the immortal and thick drops of Titan's blood gifted. So he can have this, these tiny shallow scratches that make him gasp and shift up into the gentle hand, gasping again when he reaches it.

Theres something in the way, in between him and Malphon and what they want. He tries to pull down his leggings but he's sloppy with it. This 'gentle' is foreign to Malphon where _I want this gone_ is not so they rip open his chiton for him, tear the front of his leggings to shreds just like he wants. He has them stroking him with the front of the glove now, his guiding fingers hot inside them, his breathing heavy, smooth fingertips over himself, slowly so he hisses. The claws but only on his inner thigh to make him kick, _oh, yes, yes, more of that, right where it's soft_. Blood and sweat but not like the battlefield.

It's only when he tries to flex the blood-hand and cannot does he realize he has lost control of it. It makes his breathing heavier, the realization, redirects more movement, faster pace, into the stroking-hand. Little grunts and gasps at every shallow scratch across his chest, his arms, reopening what's already started to scab over. Sighs with love and understanding at the way they are keeping scratches shallow even without his direction. Out there, fighting together, he lets himself want what they want. They want what he wants, now. He has the foolishness to feel _taken care of_ , in the hands of the Twin Fists. They are foolish enough not to kill him right then and there.

" _Please_ ", he whispers, and tries to move his upper hand. Maybe someone else likes this. To Malphon, begging has always meant to be cruel, and they prick his inner thigh again in return. _Yes_ he wants this so much thank you. _But also-_ that is how to get their attention, the promise of more. They'll watch what he has to show them. They let him flex the hand at his chest.

"Here," Zagreus mumbles, moving up around his nipple. A thumb and a finger on either side of it. "No claws, but still-" he squeezes and they squeeze _hard_ and he shouts loud enough to make Skelly yelp, jealous in the yard's center, no doubt listening closely and imagining what the sounds from down the ledge could mean all this time. Zagreus makes sounds he can't form into words but they know what he means anyway, that he's happy with it, no doubt has done this before fully alone with only his bare hands. What Malphon feels most right now is the emptiness of the other side of his chest. They don't have enough hands between them. Moving the hand from between Zagreus' legs feels impossible to them both, no, no, it needs to stay there. There must be a way.

Zag is no Titan but they drink his blood like it is of one, soaking it in looking for a memory, an idea, a solution to this. _What if,_ and Zagreus doesn't have the clarity to know any more than _what if you were all over me-_ but Malphon can do it, with all this blood, this connection, they're inspired. A mirror image of themself- more like smoke than anything but solid enough to pinch Zagreus' other nipple, the sounds coming more readily now, _aaauugh, haahhhh, yessss._ Malphon has to decide what to do with their other mirror-self- those gloves have no hands in them, they realize, free to carry out Zagreus' will however Malphon sees best. Zagreus' hips are bouncing, high enough to slide this fourth glove under him, feeling, squeezing, grabbing at him when he falls, gripping just enough to trail scratches when he rises back into hand and glove- when whatever he wants is _satisfied_ , all at once, with another yell. Fire explodes out of his temples, his feet. All direction, instruction, it's all gone, all Malphon can do is tremble with him. His hands are sweaty.

This is why they love him so much. They never ever feel satisfied anywhere else, on anyone else's wrists, not like this. There is something pooled beneath them that is not blood but it might as well be thats how much Malphon wants to drink it. All of it they soak up and learn why Zagreus likes being touched where he does.

He's panting hard and they feel his rest, his catching of breath. They feel his _quiet_. His gratitude.

"Thank you.", he says out loud, anyway. 

They squeeze around his hands, softly. Zagreus has offered hugs before, with them on his arms. They learn all sorts of strange things from him.

He wants to rest, and then wash himself off. If they would rather hover in their preferred spot, he would peel himself off the floor to put them away but- they decline _._ It is the strangest thing. It surprises even themself.

Zagreus wraps his arms around himself- they do not sink in with claws. 

They rest.

**Author's Note:**

> hey thanks for reading i really hope you enjoyed


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